


Spiral

by redbuttsarebestbutts (lovely_bones_137)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating Disorders, Halloween, Keith is bad at taking care of himself, Keith is socially inept, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Spanking, Underage Drinking, aka weed, maybe some eventual smut?, not in graphic detail tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_bones_137/pseuds/redbuttsarebestbutts
Summary: Shiro's got a lot to worry about. He can barely afford college and rent, and his scholarships rely on a high GPA. He's too caught up with studying and work to afford any sort of romantic relationship. And he definitely can't afford a romantic relationship with Lance and Hunk's grumpy roommate. But Shiro won't just stand by and watch Keith spiral.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure to look at the tags before reading, as there is some potentially triggering content in this story!
> 
> I've put this on the back burner for a while but as it starts in October, it didn't feel right to post it any other time of year! Also, I'm not caught up with Voltron (I've only watched a few seasons) but I've heard that Shiro ends up with a different guy, but I thought it'd be fun to write a relationship dynamic between these two anyway.
> 
> I hope you like it!

The chill of early October had settled onto the campus grounds. Maple leaves skated across well-manicured lawns as a slight breeze passed through. Shiro used his right arm to adjust his scarf higher across the bridge of his nose. His prosthetic did have its advantages, because his other hand remained safe and warm in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t anticipated the temperature to drop so suddenly, so he hadn’t even brought a pair of gloves or coat. He walked briskly, a shopping bag rustling at his side, eager to reach the warmth of the upcoming dorm.

As he entered, Shiro flashed his student ID and signed himself in as a guest. A quick elevator ride and a few twists and turns later (as per his friend’s directions), he stood outside room number 315. Taped to it were three name tags reading  _ Lance, Hunk, _ and  _ Keith _ . Shiro knocked loudly, because he could already hear conversation from inside.

The door opened to reveal Lance, tall and skinny and positively bouncing with energy. Shiro found himself being quickly tugged inside.

“You brought snacks, right?” Lance urged, trying to reach into Shiro’s grocery bag.

Shiro jerked it out of his reach. “Hands off! If I give them to you, you’ll eat them before anyone else has a chance! Pidge, can you come take this?”

Pidge, who had been sitting on a couch and staring at the TV, jumped up and dutifully grabbed the bag. Lance pouted and craned his neck over the shorter person to see what was inside.

Shiro took a moment to look around the room. It was an apartment-style dorm, with a spacious living room attached to a kitchen. There were two doors on both the right and left walls, and a large window at the back. Outside, the campus grounds were greyish green with fog. Aside from Pidge, Lance, and Shiro, the only other person in the room was Hunk. The large man was hunched over on the couch, staring intently at the TV screen with a controller in hand. His tongue was stuck between his teeth in concentration, and his bright eyes squinted.

“So you guys started without me, huh?” Shiro said, pretending to be offended.

“Not our fault you took so long,” Lance mumbled through a mouthful of Oreos. His fingers were sneaking for more, but Pidge snapped the package away. “C’mon, I’m one of the  _ host _ s! Shouldn’t I be able to eat snacks?” Lance whined.

“Once everybody gets some,” Pidge said, adjusting her glasses and stalking over to the couch. She passed Hunk a couple of cookies before grabbing a large handful for herself.

“This is a nice place,” Shiro remarked, taking his boots off. Despite the dirty dishes in the sink and fact that the wood floor hadn’t been swept, he meant it. He hung his jacket and scarf off one of two folding chairs sat around a card table that clearly served as the dining area.

“Yeah,” said Lance, but he sounded a bit surly. “Still not worth the cost, though.”

“Hey, I’m probably paying more than you are for a shitty one bedroom apartment,” Shiro pointed out. He joined his friends at the couch.

“Maybe, but you don’t have a  _ roommate.” _

“Hey, I’m cool!” Hunk objected, though he didn’t break his gaze from the TV screen.

“Not  _ you _ ,” Lance scoffed in an obvious tone.

“Who, Keith?” Shiro remembered the other name tag on the door.

Lance let out a groan, his head hitting the back of the couch. “Yes! He’s the  _ worst!” _

“Wait, he’s not here, is he?” Shiro looked around as if expecting the person to materialize.

“Yeah, he’s in his room.” Lance gestured sullenly to one of the doors at the right wall. “But there’s no way he heard me. All he does is listen to music and stare out the window being all emo, probably.”

“He’s really not that bad,” said Pidge, who took a moment to look away from the screen and join the conversation. “Lance just hates him because-”

“Shut up, Pidge!”

Why Lance hated Keith, Shiro didn’t find out, because at that moment he heard the sound of a doorknob clicking.

Based off of Lance’s brief description, Shiro had been expecting someone with a scruffy beard who smelled like sweat and weed. But Keith looked completely normal. Well, not  _ normal,  _ because his black hair waterfalled in the back to form a mullet, but that was the only negative thing Shiro could find about his appearance. In fact, even the mullet seemed to suit him. He was a bit shorter than Lance, but just as lean. His eyes, dark and greyish blue, were intense and slightly intimidating. He was flinty, all sharp angles and hard edges.

Lance turned around and shot Keith a glare. Keith just stood there, his expression blank. Hunk sighed as he lost the game, then realized what was happening.

“Hi, Keith!” he said, offering a friendly wave that Keith did not return.

Pidge grabbed the Oreo package and stuck it over the back of the couch. “Want one?”

“No. Thanks.”

Suddenly, Shiro blurted out, “You’re in my physics class!” It had taken him a moment to place who Keith was, mostly because his seat was usually two rows down from Shiro and he never talked to anyone. Seeing a person up close really made all the difference.

Keith paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh.” Apparently the recognition wasn’t mutual.

“I’m Shiro. Nice to meet you.” Shiro almost extended his arm over the back of the couch to shake hands, then remembered that was considered too formal to most.

“You, too,” said Keith. He gave a curt nod, then left the dorm, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Friendly, isn’t he?” Lance said the moment the door was closed.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “He’s really a good guy.” She turned to Shiro. “He’s just… shy, is all. Takes a while to warm up to people.”

“And has he warmed up to you?” Shiro asked. Pidge squirmed a little at that.

“Well, no. Not yet. But the first time I came over he didn’t even acknowledge me! So I think we’re making progress.”

Lance snorted before picking up the controller. “He’s just a jerk.”

Pidge gave Shiro a smirk. “Lance just hates him because they were in the same major last year. And Keith’s scores were  _ way _ better than Lance’s.”

Lance, who had been in first place in a game of MarioKart, careened off the edge of Rainbow Road. He clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything.

“Wait, what do you mean  _ last  _ year? Lance, did you change majors?” Shiro grilled.

Lance shrugged uncomfortably, dropping off the edge once again. He set the controller down in defeat. “Yeah. I’m going into marine biology now.” He sounded sulky.

“That’s great!” Shiro didn’t know why Lance would be upset about it. He was practically a fish, and had probably spent more than half his life in the ocean.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I was a little embarrassed about dropping out of Aviation.”

Shiro put his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I think marine biology is a great fit for you. And I heard the program here is fantastic.” He was secretly relieved, for while Lance was an okay pilot, he certainly wasn’t a great one.

Lance offered him a smile. “Well, it  _ is _ the best STEM school this half of America!” he pointed out.

The rest of the evening was spent comfortably. By nine, only an empty package and a trail of crumbs marked that Oreos had ever entered the dorm. Lance had burned popcorn in the microwave, and the smell still lingered. After they finally turned off the TV, everyone rubbed their eyes from staring at the screen for so long. Pidge collected her things before slinking off to her own dorm room. Shiro zipped up his jacket and gave Hunk and Lance one last wave goodbye before leaving.

The air had chilled even more by the time Shiro stepped out of the dorm building, and it was dark. The wind tugged at his scarf, and the white shock of hair at the front of Shiro’s head danced in front of his eyes. He scrunched his nose against the sting of cold and bowed his head before walking in the direction of his car.

Under the glow of a lamppost ahead, Shiro noticed the silhouette of a figure, hunched against the cold just like he was. As Shiro walked closer, he noticed it was Keith. He was clutching the duffel bag and his mullet was whipping into his face.

Shiro raised his prosthetic arm, felt the wind pull at it a little. “Hey!” he said, but he didn’t know if his voice would carry. Keith’s head snapped up. Before long, they were feet away from each other.

“It’s cold out here. Why don’t you have real gloves?” Shiro asked, nodding towards the fingerless gloves held tight against the strap of Keith’s duffel bag.

“Is the party over?” Keith ignored Shiro’s question.

“Yeah.”

Keith looked like he was ready to continue his trek to the dorm, but Shiro spoke again.

“Sorry if Lance is a jerk to you. He can be kind of an asshole sometimes.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at that. “I’ve noticed.”

There was an awkward pause. “Anyways. See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Keith tilted his head to the side.

“Physics class?” Shiro prompted.

Keith’s eyes widened. “Oh. Right. Yeah.” He paused, then turned and trudged away. Shiro looked back at him for a moment before doing the same himself.

_ Yeah,  _ Shiro thought.  _ I can see why Lance thinks he’s a jerk. _


	2. Chapter 2

When Shiro’s alarm went off at six, he had already been lying awake in bed since four. Three hours of sleep was not enough to keep a person functioning for long, he knew that, but it wasn’t exactly Shiro’s choice whether or not he met the quota.

The morning routine went by, as usual, without a hitch. After years of living with it, Shiro had adapted to his prosthetic arm so that he could finish all of his tasks seamlessly.

He opted for a heavy coat, not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s cold. It wasn’t until he made it out the door that Shiro’s mind, no longer occupied by a to-do list, began to wander. It wasn’t long before his thoughts landed on Keith.

Shiro had amazing self-control. His focus during the previous two years of college had been towards grades and work. As tempting as the cute boys in his classes could be, Shiro knew prioritizing was important. Still, it didn’t hurt to daydream. So daydream he did, and often. He daydreamed about the barista who flashed an interested smile as he handed off a caramel mocha. He daydreamed about a flustered customer who couldn’t decide which sandwich to order, stammering adorable apologies all the while. And he daydreamed about Keith. Assholery be damned, he was still cute.

Shiro made his way into the auditorium of his classroom, however, and his daydreams of Keith dissolved to make way for the real thing.

Slumped in his chair, one leg crossed over his knee, Keith’s face was pale save the deep circles beneath his eyes. His mullet screamed bedhead. Hands sporting that ridiculous pair of fingerless gloves clutched a small coffee. Overall, he had the appearance of an underfed squirrel dragged out of hibernation early. It was a sight to behold.

After only a moment’s hesitation, Shiro made up his mind.

_ I’ll be hanging out at Lance’s a lot this term, so it’s a good idea to get to know him better. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’s attractive… Well, in a sleepy, grumpy sort of way. _

Shiro clambered through several rows of chairs.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, gesturing to the seat next to Keith.

Keith jumped out of some reverie, apparently not having noticed Shiro’s clumsy journey.

“Uh… sure.” He seemed off put to say the least, as if being friendly wasn’t a customary gesture wherever he came from.

“Good to see you made it back to the dorm without the wind blowing you away,” Shiro tried as he settled into the new seat.

Keith exhaled through his nose. It might have been a laugh.

Shiro let the conversation die. He pulled out his notebook and pen, then checked the time. He had a tendency to arrive unnecessarily early, a habit that Keith seemed to share. There were still fifteen minutes left before class started, and Shiro would be damned if he didn’t at least try talking again. He thought hard about something to say.

“Lance doesn’t…  _ really  _ hate me, does he?” Keith was, surprisingly, the first to break the silence.

Unfortunately, this was not the conversation topic Shiro had in mind. “Well, uh, I think hate’s a strong word. I think he’s just jealous.”

Keith tilted his head, the same way he had last night. “Jealous?” he echoed.

“Yeah. You know, since you guys had the same major last year. He really wanted to be a pilot, and he was jealous that you scored so much better than him in classes.”

“Oh.” Keith thought for a moment. “I didn’t know that.”

“Lance just likes someone to compete with. Boosts his ego, y’know? It can be a bit much for some people, but you learn to live with it. He’s a lot of fun once you get to know him.”

Keith shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. Shiro assumed Keith wasn’t too interested in “getting to know” anybody, least of all Lance.

When class began, Shiro forced himself to stop talking altogether, not that Keith had been an especially engaging conversation partner. He hunched over his tiny desk and took studious notes, completely engrossed in the lecture. He couldn’t afford to let his grades slip; Shiro’s scholarship relied on his well-above-average GPA. Without that, there was no way he was getting through college.

The professor dismissed them all two hours later. Shiro neatly returned his things to his bag, but he went faster than usual; he was acutely aware of Keith standing up and turning to leave beside him.

“Wait up!” Shiro panted, catching up to Keith just before he exited the lecture hall. 

Keith paused mid step and turned over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“To… where?” Keith had completely stopped walking, so that people were grumbling and ducking past him to get out the door.

“Just. Out of the building?” Shiro tried, though his brain was screaming  _ abort mission! _

Keith blinked quizzically, as if he had never casually walked alongside anyone in his entire life. Shiro wasn’t sure which of them found the situation more confusing.

“Um. Fine.” Keith turned and began walking again, and Shiro tagged behind.

Just as they were reaching the front door, Shiro realized something.

“Hey, where’s your coat?”

Keith only shrugged in response.

“It’s cold out!”

“Guess I didn’t feel like wearing it.” Keith shrugged again, but he seemed a little self conscious this time.

Shiro almost laughed at the bizarre excuse, but he forced himself to sound stern. “That’s not a good reason.”

Keith held eye contact with Shiro for several moments before turning away.

“Bye,” he muttered, pushing the door open and letting it slam shut behind him. Shiro just stood there, stunned. Yes, Keith was definitely an asshole.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The early days of October still clung onto warm afternoons, where the sun did its best to warm the frost from the school grounds. But as the weeks passed, the days became steadily more crisp. Shiro’s short sleeved tees were discarded to the back of his dresser drawers, leaving room for his impressive collection of cable knit sweaters. And as the days became cooler, Halloween drew nearer.

Most college students, Shiro included, only cared about Halloween because it was an excellent excuse to party, and that meant it was an excellent excuse to drink. But Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were all still as invested in the spirit of Halloween as they had been when they were five, so Shiro still did his best to enjoy the holiday as much as they did.

As the oldest and most responsible of the group, however, that meant Shiro was automatically the designated driver, which meant his whole reason for celebrating the holiday in the first place was neglected. Still, as he drove to the dorm building for the second time that week, he couldn’t help but feel a  _ little  _ excited about going to the party.

Lance was, per usual, the one to answer the door.

He was in full zombie makeup. It wasn’t well applied, and bits of latex wounds peeled off his face. He looked proud, however, so Shiro gave him an impressed look.

“Better than I could do!” he admitted.

“So, what are you supposed to be?”

Shiro looked down at his outfit. “Well, I figured I’d just go as a guy celebrating Halloween,” he said.

“Am I the  _ only _ one in the Halloween spirit?” Lance grumped. “I can’t believe Hunk isn’t even coming! Who spends Halloween at some dumb Jack-o’-Lantern carving contest instead of a  _ real party?” _

“What about Pidge?” Shiro offered.

“Well, yeah, Pidge is coming. But she’s getting a ride there from her brother. Apparently Matt likes to “keep an eye on her,” when she’s at parties, so it’s not like she’ll be able to do anything fun, either.”

Shiro offered Lance a sympathetic grimace.

“Wait, before we go, is it alright if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” Lance let Shiro in. 

When he was finished, Shiro stepped out into the living room to find Lance zipping up his coat and glaring across the room at the couch.

Keith had exited his bedroom and was seated, remote in hand, flipping idly through the channels. He looked ready to die of boredom.

“Happy Halloween!” Shiro said with a wave. Keith looked up, surprised, and barely moved his hand an inch in what Shiro supposed was a wave of his own. “Got any plans for tonight?”

Keith shrugged. “Nah. I don’t really do anything for Halloween.”

Shiro thought for a moment. Keith looked disinterested, like the fact that Lance and Shiro were about to go to a party didn’t mean a thing. But he was locked away in his room more than half the time, if Shiro’s impressions of him were anything to go by, and it didn’t exactly look like he had any friends. And even if he wasn’t big on socializing, it had to be good for him to get out of the dorm every once in a while.

“C’mon,” Shiro said, jerking his head to the door. “We won’t be there long, I’ve gotta drive Lance back in time so he doesn’t sleep in for class tomorrow morning.”

Keith’s face barely betrayed his surprise, but Shiro caught it.

“‘M alright. Thanks.”

“No, really. C’mon.”

Lance touched Shiro’s shoulder. “He doesn’t wanna go,” he said, tugging his ride ever so slightly in the direction of the door. But Shiro was resolved to try once more.

“Just this one time? It’s not a huge party, it won’t be packed or anything, I swear.”

Keith looked like he was waging a war behind his eyes. “I don’t really do parties.” But he sounded like he was starting to give in.

“Free ride, free food, free drinks,” Shiro listed off, hoping he sounded enticing.

Keith sighed, then pressed the power button on the remote. “I don’t have a costume.” It wasn’t a very good argument, considering he was already in the process of standing up.

“Does this look like a costume to you?” Shiro countered, gesturing to his sweater and jeans.

Keith smiled, just a little. “Guess not.” He laced up his shoes and started to open the door.

“Hey, put a jacket on. It’s cold out,” Shiro interrupted. Keith paused, as if he didn’t know whether or not he should argue, but eventually fumbled for a jacket hanging from the nearby closet door.

As they left the dorm, Shiro ignored Lance’s glares and huffs. It wasn’t like he’d have to see all that much of Keith at the party, anyways.

“Shotgun!” Lance cried the moment he was in view of the car. He raced to claim his prize, as if afraid Keith would steal it. Shiro didn’t bother to unlock the door in advance, instead leaving Lance to click the handle uselessly while he waited.

“Sorry if it seemed like I was pressuring you to come. I just figured you’d need a little extra push,” Shiro said, turning to Keith.

“S’fine. I don’t know why you wanted me to come in the first place, though.”

“I guess I feel kinda bad, hanging out with Lance and Hunk all the time. They’ve probably always got somebody over at your place. And you never seem to have- well, to have guests over. So, I guess I thought maybe you needed to hang out with some people for a change. Just this once.”

Keith mulled this over a moment. “Maybe. Just this once.”

The party was at a frat house, hosted by some guy named Lotor they barely knew, but because there were far more exciting parties going on in other frat houses, it wasn’t terribly busy. Shiro didn’t mind a nice gathering, but if there were too many people, it started to feel like the walls were closing in on him.

Shiro allowed himself one beer, which he nursed in both hands while he stood in a corner. Lance had raced off to join Pidge, who was allowed to drink nonalcoholic beverages only, with Matt peering over her shoulder all the while.

Keith melded into the crowd, as well. Shiro was faintly surprised- he didn’t take Keith for much of a mingler.

Eventually, a few acquaintances joined Shiro’s corner, and they talked for a while about nothing in particular. Rather than engage in conversation, Shiro preferred to observe. Watching a bunch of twenty-year-olds get shitfaced and high at the same time was usually pretty entertaining.

Shiro did his best to keep an eye on both Keith and Lance throughout the party. He kept an especially close watch, however, on Lance; he was usually a good indicator for when it was time to leave. Unfortunately, he blurred into the crowd for a few minutes too long, and when Shiro found him again, he had already downed a couple more shots.

“Alright,” Shiro said, raising his voice over the steady pump of house music. “Time to go.”

Lance just blinked, not comprehending, and a piece of latex gore finally peeled from his face and fell into his drink. Shiro took him by the upper arm and shepherded him towards the door, craning his neck over the party to find a certain mullet.

“Where’s Keith?” Shiro asked.

“Keith? That asshole?” Lance slurred, gesturing with the hand that held his cup, so that a little sloshed over the side.

“Yes! That asshole!”

“Think he’s by the… by the drinks,” Lance replied, screwing his face up with the effort of thinking. Shiro nodded, pushed Lance unceremoniously onto the couch with a quick “Stay there,” then made a beeline for the kitchen.

Keith was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the kitchen island, brooding over a red solo cup. Damn, but that kid was emo.

“Time to go.”

Keith jerked his head up in response and stared at Shiro, eyes unfocused.

“C’mon.” Shiro held out his non-prosthetic hand. Keith stared at it for a moment, set his drink down on the tiled floor, then got up without the help of the proffered hand. Shiro watched him sway for a moment, then balance himself by holding onto the counter. He started to take another step, but Shiro finally cut the stubborn display short. “Nope, we’re not gonna do that.”

He took hold of Keith’s forearm and tugged him, firmly, towards the door. Shiro had enough experience handling fairly inebriated people to know when they couldn’t fully support themselves.

Lance was lying, face down, on the couch. Shiro shook his shoulder, and Lance rose, looking more like a zombie than he had all night, and followed Shiro out the door. Lance’s balance was usually alright when he was drunk; it was the falling asleep in random places, the lack of a filter, and the general overwhelming loudness that made a drunk Lance difficult to deal with. Not to mention the hangovers.

“Shotgun,” Lance slurred, once the car was in sight. He shuffled over to it, stumbling just a bit on the lawn. Shiro looked behind him to see how Keith was holding up. He was still holding firmly onto his arm, and Keith was doing his best to keep up, but his feet kept tripping over themselves.

Once Shiro had Lance and Keith safely buckled into the car (Lance in his requested passenger seat), Shiro set off back towards the dorm. It hadn’t been a terrible night, but it hadn’t been all that exciting, either. At least Lance seemed to have enjoyed himself.

The security guard at the dorm looked up from her magazine to raise an eyebrow at the trio. Shiro knew that Lance and Keith absolutely screamed  _ intoxicated,  _ but he figured the guard had already dealt with too many identical cases that night to actually care. Shiro herded the two into the elevators and down the halls until they finally reached their dorm.

“Alright, buddy. In you go.” Shiro gave Lance a gentle push towards his bed, waited until he had laid down, then shut the bedroom door. He turned back to the main room. Keith was sitting on the floor in front of the doorway, still struggling to take his shoes off.

“How much did you drink?”

“I had three shots… and a little bit of beer.”

“How much is a little bit?”

“Half a cup? I dunno, I set it down when we left.” Keith’s fingers fumbled with the shoestrings.

“Jeez, you’re a crazy lightweight,” Shiro commented.

“No’m not,” Keith mumbled, but his body betrayed him. He let out a frustrated sigh and resorted to trying to kick his shoe off. It didn’t work.

Shiro knelt down and quickly untied the knot.

“Thanks,” said Keith. Shiro extended a hand to help him up, but he refused. “Not yet.” He lay back on the dusty wood floor with a sigh.

Shiro felt his brow crease in concern. He stood up and headed to the fridge. He hadn’t seen Keith eat anything at the party. Maybe he was feeling the effects of the alcohol more because he had drunk on an empty stomach?

The fridge was nearly empty. There was a container of leftovers from a nearby restaurant which, upon inspection, revealed chicken tamales. There was also a half-empty protein shake and a mostly full bag of baby carrots. Shiro grabbed the leftovers and started to heat them up in the microwave. While he waited, he checked the cupboards, as well.

There was a box of granola bars. Other than that, the cupboards held no food.

The microwave beeped, and Shiro grabbed the food and a fork before sitting down next to Keith. He had managed to move himself into a sitting position against the door, his legs extended in front of him. Shiro set the food down on his thighs.

After a pause, Keith spoke. “That’s Lance’s.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“I’m not feeling so good.” Keith tried to hand the tamales to Shiro, but he simply pushed the food back.

“That’s because you drank on an empty stomach. Eat.”

The two sat there for a moment, gazes unwavering. But Keith broke off first, just like Shiro knew he would. He grabbed the fork and managed a small bite.

As Keith ate, Shiro thought about the barren fridge and cupboards.

“Is the dorm food as bad as Lance says it is?” Shiro asked, trying to sound casual.

Keith squinted at him suspiciously. “I don’t have a meal plan,” he said.

That was the answer Shiro had been afraid of. While it wouldn’t be unusual for Lance to have so little food, because of his meal plan, Keith didn’t have an excuse. So unless he had enough money to eat out for every meal, Keith had basically nothing to eat. Even if he was simply getting low on groceries, Shiro couldn’t imagine anyone having almost completely empty cupboards.

Maybe Keith didn’t have the money. Meal plans were expensive, Shiro knew that. 

Well, if that was the case, Shiro would just have to make sure Keith was getting enough to eat. He ignored the little warning voice in his head that told him not to get too attached and took out his phone.

“What’s your number?” Shiro asked.

Keith paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “What for?” he asked, like it was the most ridiculous request in the world.

“I know how Lance gets after a night of partying. I want to text you to see if he’s doing okay, cuz he won’t be in any shape to text me himself.”

Keith set the fork back down and eyed Shiro suspiciously. Seriously, it was like he thought everyone was out to get him. 

“Why can’t you text Hunk, instead?”

“He’s the heaviest sleeper in the world. Plus, he’s awful at responding.” Shiro held his phone out, a new contact already started.

Keith relented, and moments later, Shiro had his number safely tucked away in his phone.

“Go ahead and eat the rest,” Shiro prompted, nodding to the tamales. Keith had barely made a dent in the meal.

“But-”

“Lance eats my food all the time, I guarantee you he won’t be that mad. Seriously. Just eat it.”

Keith took a quick bite and mumbled something that might have been “Fine, whatever.” Shiro chose to ignore that.

“And don’t take too long, cuz something tells me I’m gonna have to put you to bed, too.”

Keith’s face, though it was already red from the alcohol, flushed considerably. “I can put myself to bed,” he said indignantly through a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Shiro chided with a smirk.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith is a lightweight and those are the facts


End file.
